


Interesting conversation

by bookmountains



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookmountains/pseuds/bookmountains
Summary: While waiting in a spaceport, Arthur tells Ford about his encounter with Agrajag, the being destined to be killed by him in any incarnation. Ford thinks it's the coolest space-time-anomaly.





	Interesting conversation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HYPERFocused](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/gifts).



Ford had often times found that the first few words of a conversation told him all about how interesting the conversation would be. Anything that started with “The weather” could safely be skipped, while “I’m traveling to” was worth at least the time to check if he could come along. “There’s a party was also a good conversation starter, unless you were on a boring planet like Talius five where all parties were just people doing what they were doing already but 0.1% faster, or Polius seven, where chances were they were talking of a new political party, which had taken over real parties in number of occurrences and frequency of brawls. But a really interesting conversation, one for which it was worth actually listening, was one that started with words you didn’t expect to hear, like “My daughter married a Vogon”, or “I’m running for president of the galaxy” or “shit, Ford, I’m a murderer”

“Shit, Ford, I’m a murderer.”, said Arthur. He slumped against the wall as if he hoped to become part of it.

Ford waited a few seconds, but the earthling stared at the floor and ignored him. “Go on”, Ford said.  
Arthur raised his head and stared at him. 

“You said shit Ford, I’m a murderer”, Ford said helpfully. “What kind of murderer, when did this happen? Did the drink I got us last nicht have anything to do with it and if so.”

“It this creature called Agrajag”, Arthur interrupted. “I met him a few years ago. He gets incarnated again and again and apparently I always kill him, but I didn’t want to and didn’t notice.”

Ford gasped. He looked at the earthling with newfound respect, to be truthful with comletely new, found for the first time ever, respect. “You’re a permakiller!”

“Perm- what”, Arthur asked. “Isn’t that a hairstyle?”

“A permakiller”, Ford explained. “Is an extremely rare anomaly in time and space. A beings reincarnation potential is bound to anothers personal timeline, making that person the reason for all his deaths and rebirths. It’s super hoopy. It’s like your a personification of death for this person, a powerful entity which mere presence decides about life or death. It’s super cool.”

Sometimes Arthur didn’t understand Ford at all. “How can you be happy about that?”, he asked. “I stepped on this creature as a bug, I ate it as a steak, probably several times, I made it materialize as a bowl of Petunias several miles above a planet, I”

“But all these things happened anyway”, Ford said. “You already knew you sometimes step on bugs, or eat steak, or make plowers appear randomly in space. It’s a normal part of life. So now you hear those were not eparate creature, but one and the same, that through your actions reincarnated. So you’d prefer to have killed many different beings?”

“Yes!”, Arthur shouted. “No! I don’t know.” He panted, rubbing his hands over his temple in the distinct way of someone starting to panic.

“Here” Ford help his copy of the guide up in front of Arthur’s face. “Read the cover”

“Don’t panic”, Arthur read. He repeated it to himself “Don’t panic don’t panic don’t...”

He broke off, he had an idea. “Ford, can you show me the guides entry about this Perm-killer-thing”

“Permakiller”

“Yes, maybe they have some advice what to do in this situation.

Ford pulled the article up for him. 

Arthur read:” A permakiller is an anomaly in time and space, that is considered by experts one of the most rare and probably the most hoopy space-time-anomaly there is. It’s very cool”  
Arthur raised his eyebrows at the guide. It didn’t react, so he read on: “The permakillers timerlines lays itself around the victims timeline and fuses with it, resulting in the permakiller becoming the reason for the victim’s every death.” He looked up at Ford. “Do they have to call Agrajag my victim?”

“What else would they call it?”, asked Ford who was slowly loosing patience. A conversation that started with “Shit Ford I’m a murderer” and went on with a mention of permakillers should in his eyes be less focused on semantics.

“I don’t know”, Arthur said. “Something that makes me sound less like the bad guy? I mean, I was only minding my own business, and sure, “i did kill this guy, a lot, but”

“How often do you think you killed him?”, Ford asked.

“How would I know, I didn’t notice him.”, Arthur said. “That is what eats me up about this, I did never even notice his deaths”

“Well, there is a lot you don’t notice”, Ford said, in what he hoped was a comforting tone.

Arthur ignored him and went back to reading. “Finally: What to do when you’re a permakiller: Keep on living your life in the knowledge that every fly you swat, every food you eat might be connected. Or not all of them. You might also kill unrelated beings. Don’t actively try to kill your victim as “I would have killed him anyway” is not considered a valid defense in a murder trial.  
What to do if you’re a permakiller’s victim: Nothing, as nothing you do will save you from being killed by this person. Take comfort in the knowledge that you will never spend your last moments asking yourself what sense your death makes. When your permakiller dies, you will once more be free to die for any reason at all. Unless your permakiller has access to time travel technology, which, in today’s day and age, really all but the most primitive backwater planets have. In that case you’ll probably die from the same persons hand forever”

Arthur looked up again. “That’s terrible.”

“Well, maybe it’s not great”, said Ford. “I wrote it with a hangover in a spaceport after-”

“Not the article”, Arthur said. “This.” He made a circling motion with his hands that was meant to indicate everything about this permakiller business but in reality just indicated the spaceport they were on, which was admittedly an awful spaceport, but that wasn’t what Arthur wanted to express, so he settled for staring at his hands as if he expected them to be covered in blood. In a literal way, of course, because in a figurative way they obviously did, which was why it felt fitting to check them for literal blood. 

Ford looked at him compassionately. “Look”, he said. “This may be hard to understand for you, and hard to deal with, but you’re not helping anyone if you beat yourself up about this. Or sit around staring at your hands. Which, by the way, I don’t understand”

“I’m looking for blood”, Arthur said” literal blood, but because of the figurative one , you know?”

“No”, Ford said.

Arthur shook his head “You’re right, this makes no sense. It’s one of those permanent space-time-things, right? Nothing can be done about it. I can’t let it get me down. 

Ford smiled. “Then let’s go travel the galaxy, my friend”, he said.

The two stood up and walked away. They left behind the body of agrajag the fly that Arthur unknowingly squeezed to death while slumping against the wall.


End file.
